A month later, I returned. This time I had a couple of friends with me that were excited about seeing this spot and we picked up some stragglers along the way whose names I'll never remember.
The trail was the same as last time, blocked off at the entrance with large boulders and devoid of life. I did find some shotgun shells along the path, but those are laying just about everywhere in Indiana. It's suprising you don't hear them being fired more with the sheer amount of spent ammunition laying in every slightly wooded area.
When we arrived at the creek and tunnel mouth, we found that a hobo was camping out near the water. Good spot for it, I was thinking about camping down here some time myself. We waved hi to him and he waved hi to us. The apparently Richie-Rich motherfuckers that we picked up started making fun of him as soon as we were out of earshot, which pissed me off. He likely has more freedom than they'll ever know.
Anyway, I was about ready to piss myself with glee when everybody had finally removed their shoes and we made it into the tunnel. It took a while to navigate because of deep spots in the bed of the creek and chunks of rock, but we made it through, and instead of pissing myself with glee I ripped the fart of sadness as I saw that it was all manmade, not just the bottom. There was also the fact that the bottom was the top, and there wasn't much more than was visible from the other end. Oh well.
The area through the tunnel was very nice, consisting of a fairly unpolluted wooded area and a mile or so of creek stretching back towards some housing complexes. We walked the creek until it got too overgrown and deep, then turned back. Oh well. I got a few good photos and found a good camping spot, and I also learned a valuable lesson about sharing and caring.
And we all lived happily ever after...